


Organic Morphine

by GirlWithTheGhostTattoo



Category: Avatar (Sweden Band)
Genre: F/M, Multiple Orgasms, One Shot, Outdoor Sex, Running, Sorry guys, Teasing, Unexpected Sex, Vaginal Sex, Yikes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2020-06-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:27:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24827554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GirlWithTheGhostTattoo/pseuds/GirlWithTheGhostTattoo
Summary: This fucked up train is *choo choo* UNSTOPPABLE.No but actually I dreamed this.I'm sorry that I am the way that I am. 🤷♀️
Relationships: Henrik Sandelin/Reader
Comments: 6
Kudos: 13





	Organic Morphine

**Author's Note:**

> As mentioned above (per my previous email), this is actually something I dreamed. And my inability to focus on actual real life adult work today has led to this tiny little thing. 
> 
> Why Des Moines, you ask?
> 
> We may never know, kids.

We were running. 

Not from anybody, or towards anything, just running - letting our shoes pound against the dirt repeatedly because they finally could.

It felt like we'd been cooped up on that goddamn bus for a year. We had a bigger one for this tour since the whole circuit came with a little more money, but it was still cramped and not ideal for five men and one woman for any time span longer than sixty seconds.

And it had been a hell of a lot longer than sixty seconds. 

Months, rather. Months of long, unending stretches of highway. Of gas stations that all looked exactly alike and sold the same shitty food that none of us could eat anyways. 

And the traffic lights. 

green.   
yellow.  
red. 

I was starting to think I might actually come to hate primary colors before all was said and done. 

It wasn't their fault though, and I didn't begrudge them that mode of transit. The states were a lot bigger than Europe and it just took time to get around. Didn't I know it too, having been the one who laid out and executed the schedule in the first place. 

We were planned basically down to the hour, and my fingernails couldn't take the amount of chewing that accompanied trying to herd all five of them from point A to point B smoothly. They were like fucking cats some days, all running off in different directions and I'd had to almost literally drag John onto the bus once so we didn't leave without him. 

They teased that I was a hard and unforgiving mistress (in my defense, we were literally never late anywhere), and even collectively gifted me with an insane, rhinestone-covered pink bullwhip for my birthday, (it went straight into the garbage), but for the most part we all got on like a house on fire.

I had enjoyed watching them and learning their dynamics when I took over the management side of things, but now, years later, it was all very second-nature feeling and the shiny new toy thrill had worn off. They were good though, and I was happy, despite my grumblings. I certainly wouldn't choose to do anything else if given to opportunity. 

I was so used to the five of them by now that I stood a pretty good chance of going 5 for 5 telling you exactly what they were doing at any point in their day, regardless of my proximity to them. 

John was quiet and liked to hide. Henrik was constantly staring at his phone, regardless of where he was. Tim and Jonas could be found playing guitars and games together at all times, or trying my patience just for fun. And Johannes was either reading, writing, or doing that slightly irritating thing where he endlessly chattered just to fill the empty airspace with sound.

But finally, finally after what seemed like the proverbial 40 days and 40 nights, we'd reached the west coast. The last leg, then they were all going home for a break, and I was going somewhere far the fuck away from humanity. We'd regroup in a month for festival season and the chaos would start all over again.

For now, though after tinted windows and itty bitty bunks, my skin drank up the sun like a drug, wanting more and urging me to take the coming hill faster to get to the top. To get closer to the shining ball of fire in the sky. 

I outpaced Henrik, having honestly forgotten about him between the hammering drums in my headphones and the jolting of hard, natural earth under my worn out running shoes. It did't matter how hard-packed the earth was, it always felt a hundred times better than running on concrete. 

I was going at a good clip, feeling each bead of sweat dripping across the roots of my hair, and down over the skin of my neck, wanting more, needing to sweat out toxins and the grimy indoor air.

Motion at the corner of my eye caught my attention and Henrik pulled out one earbud when I glanced over briefly.

"You got somewhere to be?" he panted, keeping up but obviously not happy about it.

"Yeah, this shitty band I love is playing that fancy theater downtown later. They suck, but you should come with," I grinned, and he rolled his eyes at me. But I saw that smile catch the corner of his mouth. Despite his quiet nature, Henrik had the best sense of humor - a perfectly-timed balance of annoying and crude and stupid funny, and the fact that no one ever expected it was kind of the best part. 

I panted for air, my leg muscles burning with the exertion, but the endorphins just felt too fucking good to stop. When the height of my day's excitement sometimes was my laptop battery hitting 100% charge so I could go hide in my bunk away from the constant presence of people, this kind of rush may as well have been from literal narcotics. 

"Tired? You wanna stop?" I raised an eyebrow at him, and he huffed an exaggerated, though probably extremely-deeply-felt sigh and shook his head. 

"Good," I grinned and I bolted off, running as fast as I could until I felt like I could just spread my arms out and take off gliding over the low rolling hills, starting to bloom now from the spring rains.

He was a second behind me, running on longer legs though we were nearly the same height, and we ran almost neck-and-neck the rest of the way up, eventually laughing as we gasped for breath and I won by a foot. I hit the trunk of the tree hard with my hand, tagging it and turning around with a victorious whoop, pumping my fist in the air once.

Henrik didn't catch it, standing bent with his hands on his knees wheezing. 

"I fucking hate running with you," he huffed, only half-seriously, "whats the point in taking off like that?"

"Endorphins," I gave him my best jazz hands, the hormones in question zinging through my brain now like lightning bugs and making me feel like the world was just the peachiest damn thing. 

"I'm gonna start making you do drugs," he propped his hands on top of his head, and we both watched each other sweat for a moment, our chests moving with each panted inhale and exhale, "there are way better ways to get endorphins than running like a feral fucking animal."

"Jesus you're grumpy today. Its a beautiful day, Henrik! Fresh air! Sunshine! Non-manmade surfaces! _Grass_!" I gestured broadly around us. The bus was nowhere in sight, thank god, and we were probably at least three miles from our starting point, surrounded by nothing but wonderful, empty land. There wasn't an amplifier or strobe light within a thousand yards of me, and for that I was thankful. 

"Plus you know the rules," I shook my head, knowing he had been joking about the drugs but reminding him anyways. The guys weren't allowed so much as a shared joint if they didn't have at least two days in a row off. It was a rule they'd come up with amongst themselves after collectively getting past the drunk-on-a-drop-of-power phase, but I wholeheartedly supported it. 

I'd seen Tim stoned off his ass just the one time, but it was enough to make me consider getting a lock for my bunk curtain just to put some kind of semi-permanent barrier between me and his incessant giggles.

"Still, better ways than this," Henrik shook his head, running both hands back over his hair, damp with sweat, and pushing the loose strands out of his face, "christ why don't you just go get laid or something."

"Because I happen to like running! And I'm gonna remind you that you said that when I find a hot stranger and sneak them onto the bus and you get all fussy about it," I flipped him off as I took my hair out of its binding and turned my head upside down, finger-combing and re-gathering it all into a ponytail that caught the damp strands.

"That was so weird how you just opened your mouth and Jonas' voice came out."

I couldn't help it and snorted a laugh, holding up my wireless, fairly industrial-strength earphones when I was upright.

"Why do you think I bought these in the first place?"

"I know, I've been waiting like five years for you to let them out of your sight so I can steal them and blame your forgetfulness."

"I am _not_ forgetful, Henrik."

"I'm teasing, gods aren't endorphins supposed to make you loose and relaxed? Chill out," he chuckled and came to stand next to me silently, staring out at a hawk that was hanging in midair on the breeze, watching the field below that no doubt was hiding some kind of small lunch-like creature. 

Our breathing slowed to its normal pace, and the shade from the tree gave us enough shelter to cool down fractionally, though we were still sweating. 

The hawk missed its catch.

"Bummer," I mumbled, watching it take off and start wheeling overhead, searching for Take Two.

I squinted one eye as I stared up at the sky, the bird's shape getting smaller and smaller as it gained altitude. When I opened it and came back to earth, Henrik was watching me. 

"What," I took a step back, "what are you looking at?"

"You."

"Well obviously, thanks, professor," it was my turn to roll my eyes at him, and I turned back out to the fields, propping my hand on my hip. Occasionally there were coyotes up in these parts and I'd half-hoped to see one. There was nothing though, no more birds of prey, no foxes or other dogs. Even the cattle that sometimes were set out over the hills to keep the grasses from getting too tall were absent.

"You changed your hair."

My head slowly swiveled to face him, "I did..."

"When?"

"I don't know...Tulsa maybe?"

"Oh. Well the new color looks nice."

"Thanks. Uhm. Yours looks nice too. High up like that, I mean. It frames your face better than when you wear it low...aaaand I'm shutting up now, sorry," I shook my head and checked my watch, "we gotta get going."

"Do you have a schedule for everything?"

I turned to him and put both hands on my hips, "how many years have you known me now? Of _course_ I have a schedule for everything. If I didn't you'd still be in fucking Des Moines somewhere."

"Hey I happened to like Des Moines and would have gladly stayed for a while, thank you very much," he laughed, stepping closer.

I should have stepped back but didn't and now he was very much in my personal bubble, looking at me with an interested expression, his eyes flitting over my face, down my neck and watching the beads of sweat dripping down between my breasts, soaking the neon yellow material of my sports bra. 

Alarm bells went off and lightning crackled up my spine as his index finger slowly lifted to touch one of the glistening paths, his eyes still not meeting mine. I experienced an extraordinarily extensive and confusing series of emotions in the span of about five seconds, and tried to force myself to take that step back that I should have taken a minute before. 

But my feet wouldn't move. 

"What the hell are you about to do, Henrik," I asked, like it wasn't obvious already from the way his pulse was beating rapidly in the base of his throat as his fingers continued to dance over my skin. 

"I think I'm about to seriously fuck up our business relationship..."

My retort never made it past my lips. It hardly mattered because if it had, it would have gone straight into his, as he suddenly cupped the back of my head and pressed his mouth down over mine. 

I guess I should have anticipated this from the first second when he'd just touched me, but my head still swirled as I clenched hard and found myself knowing I needed to pull back even as I sank in.

I hadn't watched him with this kind of interest or fascination in a long time.

At first I'd had to fight myself not to sink my fingers into that divine fucking blonde hair, but now he was just Henrik.

The way Jonas was just Jonas and Tim was just Tim.

He drank black coffee out of the same mug every day and was ridiculous and obsessive about the way he folded his clothes, but he was just a person. A wonderful person who I adored of course, but still just a regular person.

Well. 

Almost. 

I exhaled sharply, knowing I was about to cross a line, but I was still flying high and he tasted good and felt good, and goddamn it had been _months._

"You know you shouldn't be doing this," I murmured, sinking back into his kiss and pushing my tongue between his lips, delighting in the reaction I got as his hands encircled my waist, running over my skin, uncaring that I was still covered in a sheen of sweat. 

This was insane, and we absolutely should _not_ have been doing it.

"Why, is it gonna make you miss me when I go home?" he breathed with a smirk. 

I did miss them when they went home.

For about a day. 

I pulled back and bit my bottom lip teasingly, shaking my head, "nope."

Henrik narrowed his eyes and snarled lowly at me, yanking me forward and tearing the elastic out of my hair, taking a few strands with it and making me wince a little, but the expression got lost into the onslaught of his kiss, a thing so insistent and forceful that I found my arms hooking around his neck just to stay on my feet as he bent me backwards.

Huh. Who'd have thought. 

Certainly not me, that was for damn sure. 

"Have I ever told you that you're bossy and irritating sometimes," he panted before sinking back into my lips, opening his so I could taste him again. His tongue was hot and intoxicating, sliding against mine, stoking that forbidden fire.

"Have I ever told you that you're whiny and glued to your phone," I retorted, chasing his kiss and pressing harder into him until I could feel his erection digging into my hips insistently. He laughed lowly, breathing the sound out between licks and bites delivered against my lips.

"I taste good though, don't I," he whispered as his hands gripped my waist harder, pulling me into his body until my fingertips were exploring his bare chest, tracing the line of his sternum down the middle with my pointer finger and letting it continue its path of travel, cocking an eyebrow at him as he hissed through his teeth when it toyed with the waist of his shorts. 

"I mean I guess so," I smirked, pulling and snapping the elastic against his skin and finding myself flat on my back on the ground two seconds later for my trouble, with him on top of me, grinding my hips into the grass.

"Your sarcasm really gets on my nerves."

"Your inability to meet schedules really gets on mine, so I guess we're even," I sank my nails into his skin, pulling some kind of deliciously arousing sound from his throat as he pressed me harder into the ground like a punishment.

Talk about fireworks.

Every nerve ending in my body lit up like a match and rather than yelling at me for being a fucking idiot for doing this with him, my brain suddenly screamed for more like a broken record. 

We willingly got tangled up in each other, my head lifting to meet his mouth every time he dipped down to kiss me again, each one getting sloppier and more careless as he pressed himself harder between my legs, settling his weight and letting one of his hands wander as my thighs squeezed his hips.

"Jesus how do you even get into this thing," he grumbled, struggling with the skin-tight thick elastic of my sports bra before giving up and settling for biting at my nipples through the fabric, growling his appreciation as my back arched off the warm ground and he flicked his tongue over the visible outline of each one. 

I gasped some series of obscenities that made him chuckle as he started grinding harder into me, letting me feel him and the reaction of his body to whatever series of bad decisions we were in the middle of making. 

He kissed me hard again, but it was slower, like he was building up the anticipation rather than settling for immediate gratification as his hips rolled into me again. 

"Off," he plucked at the waistband of my running shorts. 

"You first," I reached up to bite his bottom lip hard, making him shout. 

"Ouch! Fuck! I need that, you know."

I made a mocking frowny face at him and reached up again, more slowly this time, licking across the swell of his lip again and gently kissing it before closing my teeth over it and very slightly tugging.

"Better?"

The low moan that left his lips got us both into trouble. 

His tongue sank into my mouth as I shimmied the polyester shorts down my legs when he lifted his hips, kicking out of the material and all but tearing his off his hips before pressing myself up against him. 

The high-pitched gasp that left my lips as he explored my sensitivity was well-earned, if not the slightest bit embarrassing and I did my best to keep my vocal responses restrained, preferring instead to grip his hips with both hands and feel his muscles working underneath the skin.

But fucking _fuck_ he felt good. Sliding effortlessly over my core, growling into my lips how warm and wet and fucking good my pussy was. 

Christ.

He pushed up on his hands to watch me as he tilted his hips and slid over me again, waiting for me to move any further, continuing to look at me, watching me pant under him and forgetting that we were probably making a huge mistake.

Henrik said my name quietly and I spiraled out as I lifted my ass off the ground, angling my hips so that he started pressing into me slowly. 

Gods the feeling was like heaven dipped in euphoria and coated in sugar and rainbows.

I cried out sharply, matching his own sounds as he pressed his forehead down hard against mine and pushed in further, gritting his teeth and trying to breathe.

There was nothing else now to do, no further steps to take on this side of the line we'd crossed over to, so I just pulled his face down and kissed him, clenching hard as he moaned into my lips. 

"God you feel fucking good," he groaned as he bottomed out and rolled his hips hard enough to make me arch off the grass again as I grabbed his ass with both hands and almost shrieked. 

It seemed to shift something in his temperament and he started thrusting into me hard, not taking his time or being careful, as I knew him to be with almost everything, but giving into some kind of hidden savage and impulsive side.

His mouth and his tongue were hot as he devoured me, biting my lips and tearing at my skin as he fucked me hard, the obscene sounds of wet flesh against wet flesh echoing off our peaceful surroundings until I could feel my orgasm building. 

"Fuck yes," he snarled as he felt me start to tighten around him, balancing his weight on his left palm so his right could slide between our bodies and do some kind of magical thing to my clit. 

Ugh.

Bass players. 

I couldn't even breathe from the absolute pleasure.

It was phenomenal and mind-boggling and stupendous and staggering and a billion other adjectives, but in those seconds, it was just mine. 

Henrik watched everything, taking in the way I bit my lip and strained against the grass, rolling my hips into him incessantly. He snarled and shoved his wet fingers into my mouth, kissing me around them until we both tasted me and I chased him for more, still riding the euphoric waves of my first, knowing that I was rapidly approaching another. 

Not my fault.

_Months._

"So. Fucking. Tight," he growled, shifting again so that each thrust of his narrow hips filled me to my limit, pressing his cock hard against my frontal wall and watching the stars explode behind my eyes as my pupils reduced my irises to basically nothing, leaving empty black holes hanging in the whites of my eyes.

One would think that after five years I would have picked up some of their language, but it still sounded like gibberish to me, beyond the dirty words that John insisted I learn for their own amusement one night when we'd all gotten trashed together. 

I did manage to catch one or two of them in whatever long string of obscene thoughts the man above me was stuttering as his hips crashed into mine and his fingers started working my clit again, needing to push me closer before he gave in. 

"Fuck, fuck fuck fuck," I writhed under him, uncaring that the grass was itchy and I was going to be covered in dirt.

"Come. Oh gods please fucking come," he moaned, fucking into me harder and doubling his attentions on my clit until I was screaming, squirting hard and gushing down his thighs as I held onto him like my grip might be the only thing keeping me tethered to the planet. 

"FUCK!" he yelled, crushing his weight down over me and emptying himself, rolling his hips repeatedly, more slowly and controlled now as my walls gripped him hard. 

And that was it. 

There it was. 

Fuck.

Henrik panted and stared down at me and I panted and stared right back up at him. 

Gods but he was pretty all backlit like that with loose tendrils of hair blowing across his face. 

I expected him to start second-guessing, but he actually just leaned down on shaking arms and kissed me once - something sweet and slow, like a nice little ribbon to wrap the whole thing up in a bow so we could pretend it never happened. 

When he slipped out of me and got his knees under him he went fire engine red almost on the spot, glancing down at my fluids dripping down his legs, watching them course down over the paler skin.

"Oh."

Ah shit, now I was blushing too. 

"Sorry..."

"No, don't be..."

I pulled my shorts back up my legs and raised both eyebrows at him as he chewed his lip and I caught his stare, wandering over me, taking in the nail marks and messy hair, the red patches across my neck and shoulders where he'd gotten carried away. 

"Don't you look at me like that or we're gonna be late."

"Gods forbid," he laughed, seeming to shake himself out of it and righting his own clothes before getting to his feet and offering me both hands, crossed one over the other to pull me up. 

He pulled too hard though (on purpose. ass.) and I went flying into him, crashing and stumbling as I cursed and he laughed, hooking one arm around my waist in a perfectly-overfamiliar fashion to hold me up. 

"I like you all endorphined out," he teased, "way less uptight."

"Yeah well relish it because in thirty seconds I'm gonna remind you that we're about to be super fucking late for _your_ show."

"Thirty seconds, huh," he mumbled, tucking his fingers into my hair and kissing me hard, sinking his tongue into my mouth and smiling into my lips as I reflexively leaned in. 

The thirty seconds turned into at least a minute before he finally broke away, slipping his tongue out of my mouth reluctantly and pressing his forehead down against mine with a sigh. 

"We could stay..."

"Move it, mister."

"Ugh. Welcome back, Mistress," he narrowly avoided my swat at him and I turned my head upside down again to put my hair up, taking a deep steadying breath and promising myself that would never happen again before standing upright and looking him in the eye. 

"That was...uhm...nice. No more though."

"Uh huh."

"No, Henrik I'm serious."

"Aren't we late for something?"

He was just doing it to get a rise out of me, but I glanced at my watch and visibly bristled. We were gonna have to really haul it to get back to the bus and to the venue in time now. 

"Okay, yes, off we go, now now now," I basically shoved him back down the path until his feet started moving and he snapped an 'alright, alright!' at me. 

I pushed my earbuds in as far as they would go, willing my thoughts to just pause for a time. There were far too many details to see to in the next couple of hours before I could even begin to unpack the events of the last thirty minutes. But at least he didn't insist on talking about it.

Maybe we could both just ignore it forever? He'd go back to the black coffee and the obsessive folding, and I'd go back to my scheduling and cat-herding. 

He (annoyingly) matched my pace step for step, and I finally looked over at him with an exasperated glare. 

"What!" I bit out.

"Race ya," he gave me a grade-A toothy smile before smacking my ass hard one time and taking off, sprinting the rest of the straight path to the grounds where everyone else was lounging outside in fold-up chairs.

_"HENRIK! I will fucking take you back to Iowa and leave you there!!"_

**Author's Note:**

> They're coming to take me away ha ha.


End file.
